


Drown It In Alcohol

by Iamalsohere



Series: Tumblr Giveaway Fic [1]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Noiz Route, Pining, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 12:17:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16137071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iamalsohere/pseuds/Iamalsohere
Summary: The man he realised he loved too late is in Germany with someone who doesn't deserve him, and Koujaku tries to drown himself in vodka at Black Needle. There, he meets an old face. Someone who stirs up too many memories.





	Drown It In Alcohol

**Author's Note:**

> This was done as a giveaway on my Tumblr, for Destinywithluv! Thank you again for following me, Destiny :D

“Hey Mizuki,” Koujaku says, raising his glass and tilting it towards him. “Get me another?”

Mizuku looks at him across the bar, his brow furrowed and one finger scratching the bandages on his neck. “Koujaku,” he says slowly, “Maybe you should cool it a little on the vodka. Have something to eat, instead.”

Koujaku groans, rubbing a hand over his face. His thumb goes to the scar across his nose, digging into the smooth flesh. His nail catches the skin. “Mizuki,” he says with his eyes closed, “Can you please not give me this shit right now? I’ve had a really long day, I just want to hang out with my friend, drink vodka with a bit of coke in it, and not be hounded for it. So please.” He opens his eyes and places the glass gently on the bar. “Get me another one.”

Mizuki quirks his eyebrow, obviously battling with himself in his head. He runs his fingers through his hair. Sighs. Then grabs the glass off the counter. “I am going to get you some water and something to eat, and _then_ you can have another vodka and coke.”

“Mizuki-“

“My bar, my rules,” Mizuki tells him. And he ducks away to find something for Koujaku to eat.

Urgh. Koujaku rests his head in his hands, his fingers at his temples and his toes curling in his shoes. He doesn’t want to eat anything, he just wants to drink until he passes out and the day is over. He just wants... He just wants everything to sort of blur and fade together and disappear. Just for a minute. Just for one damn minute. But unfortunately, Mizuki is an actually decent person who isn’t comfortable pouring copious amounts of alcohol down his best friend’s throat. So Koujaku just has to sit there and stew and remain far too lucid for his liking.

Black Needle is humming with noise as usual. Mizuki’s stint in hospital hasn’t caused any problems with his business model, people still turn up here every night to get hammered and generally socialise. Koujaku still turns up here to do both those things. Some days he just prefers one activity over the other. He lights a cigarette to wash down the taste of vodka and cola. Tries to get out of his own head.

There’s a group of men in the corner that are starting to rile him up. They’re not doing anything in particular, they’re just being loud. That certain type of loud that’s difficult to ignore and which is getting under Koujaku’s skin. The kind of loud that belongs to a group of friends having a good time, just reminding Koujaku how much of a shitty time he is having. Why is anyone allowed to be having fun here? Why don’t they see that Koujaku needs quiet? And where the fuck is Mizuki with his food?

The group in the corner lets out a loud burst of laughter, and Koujaku rubs a hand over his face. His fingers go to the tattoo snaking up his temple. And he glares over his shoulder at the group. He doesn’t recognise them, they’re not part of any Rib group he knows. Maybe they’re Rhymers? But they’re older, more grizzled, all of them sporting scars. None of them look like the sort of person that little German bastard would have hung out with. Koujaku sucks angrily on his cigarette and breathes out a thick cloud of smoke.

There’s a man sitting in the corner who’s ringing a small bell in Koujaku’s brain. Koujaku narrows his eyes. Who the fuck is that? He’s tall, broad, with defined cheekbones and bright yellow eyes. His hair is clipped short, and the Allmate sitting on his shoulder is a bright pink cockatoo.

That bird. Koujaku’s eyes widen as he recognises who the man is.

It’s him! It’s the leader of Scratch! He was there when Mizuki got scrapped, when the gas- masked guy had crashed into Aoba’s house, when Aoba had run into Platinum Jail with that German prick! Koujaku had argued with this guy that day as they’d run from Akushima, both of them trying to find Aoba and find a way into Platinum Jail. But they’d lost track of each other. And Koujaku had completely forgotten about him after Platinum Jail had fallen and everything had crumbled around his ears. What was his name? Mink.

Koujaku’s mouth twitches into a scowl around his cigarette as he watches Mink laughing with the other men at his table. He tastes the smoke and ash on his tongue. Breathes out. Then gets to his feet and walked across the room.

“You,” he says, pointing a finger across the table at Mink. “What are you doing here?” Mink looks at him. Weren’t his eyes blue before?

“Red,” he says in recognition. “Right. You’re a friend of Mizuki’s.”

“M...” Koujaku blinks. “How do you know Mizuki? What are you doing here?”

“Hey man, we’re not here to cause trouble,” says someone else at the table. Koujaku ignores him, glaring at Mink. The cigarette in his hand is burning down, dropping ash onto the floor.

Mink takes a sip of his drink. “I’m here with friends. What are _you_ doing here?”

“None of your business.”

“Hm. Sit down, Red. You’ve been drinking too much.”

“No, I haven’t,” Koujaku says. His mouth twitches. The cigarette burns down. “Why are you... Haven’t seen you since Aoba...” He tails off and runs a hand through his hair. Mink is watching him with those weird yellow eyes. Shit. They look like Aoba’s. They’re not the same bright yellow, they’re a duller gold, but still... They may as well be his.

Koujaku has no idea why he came over here. He has no idea what he wanted to say to Mink, has no idea what he wants. He just knows this guy’s somehow connected to that day when Aoba ran off with the German brat. That day-

Koujaku’s head is spinning and it feels like his skull is slightly too big for his brain. His cigarette has burnt down to a stub, dropped from his fingers to the floor. There’s movement behind him, a hand on his shoulder making him jump. He spin rounds, eyes wide and hand clenching to a fist ready to throw a punch. But it’s just Mizuki. He’s holding a glass of water and is looking at Koujaku with concerned eyes.

“Are you okay?” he says.

Koujaku doesn’t answer. He walks past Mizuki, pushing out of the bar into the cold air, turning the corner to the dimly lit alleyway out the back. Then when he’s alone, he leans against he wall with his head in his hands and tries desperately to sober up. Breathes in the cold air. Digs his fingers into his forehead. Lets his hair fall into his face.

Aoba’s eyes, the sound of his laugh, the way he’d smiled off into the distance when he was lost in thought, how he’d calmly held Beni. Beni, tucked away and sleeping in the sleeve of Koujaku’s kimono, shut down so his tiny voice wouldn’t keep pestering Koujaku when what he needs is quiet. Quiet and an empty bar and for Mizuki to just keep serving him alcohol. And for Mink to not be there, reminding Koujaku of that fucking day so long ago when all of this had started.

Koujaku slumps into a crouch, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it. It calms him, the smoke filling his lungs and soothing his throat. And he breathes out with a sigh.

He stays there for a while, crouched in the dark alleyway, letting the distant hum of the street wash over him. And he closes his eyes. If he concentrates he can pretend that this is his birthday from three years go, when he’d ducked out of Black Needle to get some air. And Aoba had fallen out after him, his cheeks red form alcohol and his hands in fists ready to pick a fight. He’d stumbled over his own feet, slumping into Koujaku’s side, and his hair had smelt of coconut. That German fuck would be smelling his hair now, wouldn’t he? Koujaku’s hands clench. What time is it in Germany? Are they sleeping in the same bed? Or having breakfast together? Maybe it’s the evening and they’re eating dinner, and that brat’ll be feeding Aoba with his fork and wiping the corner of his mouth with a finger and leaning in to kiss him.

“Shit.” Koujaku buries his face in his hands. He scrunches his eyes shut, trying to shake the image out of his head.

There’s the sound of the door to Black Needle opening, and footsteps that come to a stop in front of Koujaku. He cracks his eyes open. A pair of sturdy boots is next to him, someone in faded jeans is leaning against the wall. Koujaku tilts his head. It’s Mink. He’s leaning against the wall, looking up at Black Needle's’ neon sign. Koujaku watches him as he lights a strange, ornamental-looking pipe and presses it to his lips.

“What do you want?” Koujaku asks, looking away.

“Nothing,” Mink says. “I’m just getting some quiet.”

“Well get it somewhere else,” Koujaku mutters.

Mink laughs softly. It’s a strange sound. Since when is this guy capable of laughter. “What crawled up your ass and died tonight, Red?”

Koujaku scowls and gets to his feet, steadying himself against the wall with one hand. “I don’t need to take this from you.”

“No. You don’t.” Mink breathes out his sweet-smelling smoke. He raises his eyebrows at him. It’s not an invitation. It’s not anything. But Koujaku doesn’t move, just stays there with his hand on the wall and his hair in his face.

And the alcohol has loosened Koujaku’s tongue so he mutters, “Someone got married. And the guy they’re marrying doesn’t deserve them. And I’m pissed off.”

“Mm.” Mink sucks on his pipe. “You mean Aoba?”

“How do you know everybody all of a sudden, huh?” Koujaku asks, swinging his hand through the air in front of him. “What did I miss? How do you know Mizuki? How do you know Aoba’s married? What happened to your hair?”

Mink takes a small drag on his pipe. And he casually pulls down the collar of his jacket to reveal a dark scar over his neck that has Koujaku’s stomach turning. “I was in hospital for a while. They cut my hair when I was in there, and I met Mizuki at art therapy sessions. He tells me and Clear what’s going on with Aoba.” He sucks his pipe.

Koujaku stares at him, his eyes not leaving the spot on Mink’s throat where the scar is. What... Where did he get that? Was he in a fight or something? Koujaku blinks. Looks away. All he can say is, “Oh.”

They stand there smoking in silence for a little while. Then Koujaku leans his head back against the wall.

“Why did he choose him,” he says.

“You mean Wilhelm?”

“Yeah. That guy.” Koujaku sucks on his cigarette. “He could’ve had anyone. Anyone at all. Half of Midoriya was in love with him. But he runs off to Germany with some asshole who took a nailgun to his face. What, is it cos he’s rich or something? Fuck.”

“Hm.” Mink rests his pipe against his lower lip. His high cheekbones are picked out in the pink light of the Black Needle sign. “You really have a low opinion of Aoba, if that’s what you think.”

“Huh?”

“He’s marrying this kid because they’re in love. It happens.”

“Yeah.” Koujaku flicks the cigarette butt away from him and folds his hands over his chest, his arms going into his sleeves. “It never happens to me.”

“Losing the people you love happens, too.”

Koujaku doesn’t answer. He closes his eyes and feels the tattoo covering the side of his face and his arm start to burn, feeling like it’s about to come alive and writhe agains this skin. His hand pricks with the feeling of blood. His nose is full of the scent of coconut. And he opens his mouth in a long sigh, fighting back a tear. He isn’t going to start crying in that damn alleyway. Not that night. Not because of Noiz.

“It... Hurts,” he says finally.

“Yeah. I know.”

“Have you... Have you ever lost someone?”

Mink looks at him out the corner of his eye. His short hair ruffles in the wind. “Yes. I’ve lost someone.”

“I don’t want to lose anyone else,” Koujaku says.

“Mm.” Mink tilts his head to the side, smoke curling around his teeth. “Well, you have two options for that. You can either drink yourself to death so that nobody else can leave you. Or, you can accept that Aoba still loves you in his own way, and that you have numerous friends who also love you. And you can keep living. And fill your life with these other people. And, in time, that hole they’ve left in you will start to lessen.”

Koujaku sighs. He grinds his teeth. “I need another drink.”

“Let me buy you one,” Mink says, resting a warm hand on Koujaku’s shoulder. “And come join us for a game of cards.”

“You want me to play cards with Scratch?”

“Yes, because you know we’d beat Benishigure in Rib.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Mink laughs again, and his face cracks into a surprisingly warm smile.

It’s awkward sliding in between Mink and someone from Scratch at a Black Needle table, being dealt into the card game, and trying to play with them. Koujaku isn’t quite sure how to react. But as the night wears on and a couple members leave, and Mizuki joins them, Koujaku relaxes. He listens to Mizuki tell him old stories Mink’s told him, explaining how they bonded over their love of classic movies. And Mink and Koujaku talk about some old literature Koujaku’s mother used to read to him as a kid. Until the bar is empty and it’s just the three of them surrounded by the smell of alcohol and smoke. And he starts to forget that the man he’s been in love with his entire life is married to someone else.

Fill the hole that Aoba left. That’s what Mink tells him. It’s sage advice. Koujaku tries. As he calls Aoba and tells him that he’s happy for his marriage, Koujaku tries to fill that emptiness. Fills it with other people, with Rib and Benishigure and card games and movies at Mizuki’s house. With long nights talking to Mink, learning about the scar on his neck, hearing stories about his family. Telling him the name of Koujaku’s mother, revealing the tattoo trickling down Koujaku’s shoulder and arm. Letting his hand go to Koujaku’s waist. Tasting the smoke on the edge of Mink’s tongue. Breathing in the smell of cinnamon that seems to cling to every inch of him.

And slowly, gently, forgetting that feeling of emptiness that Aoba left behind.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/feedback are very appreciated! And if you want to request fic or just say hi, ~~[feel free to come hit me up on Tumblr](http://iamalsohere.tumblr.com/)~~ (EDIT: TUMBLR NUKED ME, BECAUSE IT SUCKS! FIND ME ON TWITTER) or [on my Twitter :)](https://twitter.com/CornyBunBun)


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